


The Lion of Skyhold

by katling



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Boys Kissing, Except when he is, Implied Deaths, Implied Violence, M/M, Sexual Content, Shapeshifting, dorian is not a damsel in distress, flemeth is sneaky and mysterious, not of canon characters, rogue templars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-24 15:41:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4925404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katling/pseuds/katling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Cullrian Prompt Saturday over on tumblr. My prompt was:</p>
<p><a href="http://cullrianprompts.tumblr.com/post/130008326294/dorian-is-mistaken-for-an-apostate-and-is-chased">Anonymous ASKED</a>: <i>Dorian is mistaken for an apostate and is chased by Templars into the mountains. Dorian is extremely fatigued from wandering the country and running and collapses at the top of one of the mountains. The last thing he hears before he falls unconscious is the sound of screaming and loud lion roars, followed by a blurry vision of lion will familiar golden eyes stalking towards him. With blood smeared paws, it reaches out to place a now familiar touch of a human hand on Dorian's, b4 he blacks out.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dorian suspected there was something ironic about all of this. He had no idea what it might be and he was far too exhausted to figure it out but he was adamant that there had to be irony involved somehow. If he couldn’t, at some amorphous point in the future, sit around and laugh at the irony of all of this, he might have to cry and he hated crying. His eyes got red and his nose always got stuffed up and he sounded like he had a cold. It was all very undignified.

When he’d gotten separated from the Inquisitor and the rest of their group in the course of a fairly vicious encounter with a large group of Red Templars that had ended up rolling over the course of nearly a mile and then couldn’t find them again, he’d assumed it would be a simple matter of finding the nearest Inquisition camp and either regrouping there or accepting an escort back to Skyhold. What he hadn’t expected was to be accosted by an overly-enthusiastic group of Templars who had taken one look at him, started up the cry of “Apostate” and given chase.

These weren’t Red Templars under the command of Samson nor were they part of the small group of what might be termed ‘rebel Templars’ who’d come to the Inquisition instead of joining their fellows at Therinfal Redoubt. These seemed to be a group who had ignored both authorities and had set up on their own to go apostate hunting. They’d heard about this lot at Skyhold. Cullen had grumbled about them to him over a game of chess more than once. They claimed to be ‘fulfilling the true purpose of the Templars’ and Cullen was apparently caught between conflicting opinions. On one hand, this group seemed to be mostly targeting those rebel apostates who had either turned to blood magic or were genuinely terrorising parts of Thedas. On the other hand, there were whispers starting that they’d begun to… branch out, as it were. Expand the definition of ‘true purpose’ and what they deemed to be a dangerous apostate. Or in other words, they’d started sliding down that slippery slope.

All of which was entirely academic in Dorian’s mind right now. Because these Templars were also relentless, stubborn and seemingly indefatigable. 

His first reaction when they’d started after him had been to take them on. Six against one wasn’t terribly good odds but he’d been confident in his abilities to take down a few of them and hopefully scare off the rest. Unfortunately he’d forgotten that Southern Templars weren’t like the ones back home. The Silence and the Purge they’d used on him had been sudden and, he’d privately admit, terrifying. He wasn’t used to _warriors_ having an edge like that on him, being able to completely strip him of his magic. Thankfully he’d continued his training in stave work even after joining the Inquisition and he’d been able to get enough of an advantage to break free of them and run.

And all he’d been able to do since then was run. He’d set a few traps in the first couple of days but they were careful and canny and they’d either avoided them entirely or dispelled them easily. So he’d stopped wasting his time and energy and instead had headed for the mountains. Partly because he wanted to draw them away from any civilians but mostly because he was hoping to work his way along to the trail that lead up to Skyhold. He was bound to encounter Inquisition troops coming or going when he got there and they would be able to sort out these Templars.

Unfortunately he’d had no idea how far he was from the path to Skyhold and now, six days after the chase had begun, he was beginning to think he wasn’t going to make it. He was exhausted. He’d finished the last of his food two days ago and his water yesterday. He liked to think he was in good shape, especially after being dragged around the countryside by the Inquisitor, but when it came down to it, he was a mage, not a warrior and especially not a lyrium-enhanced Templar. He hadn’t dared to catch more than a couple of hours of a sleep at any one time and the rest of it was spent moving upwards and onwards. 

The relentless pace was taking its toll. _Had_ taken its toll and as he crested the latest rise, his body finally declared it’d had enough, whether he liked it or not. His knees buckled underneath him and he grunted as he fell heavily onto the rocky ground, barely able to catch himself with his hands to prevent his head from hitting the ground. He turned his head so that he wasn’t breathing in stone dust and dirt and simply lay there and tried to catch his breath and get his limbs to obey him. He knew he needed to get up, to keep going but his exhaustion had finally caught up to him and beaten him to the ground.

He closed his eyes and tried not to whimper. This wasn’t how he’d wanted to die, ignominiously on the top of an isolated mountain in the middle of nowhere, bludgeoned to death by Templars. He’d wanted to go out gloriously fighting a mighty foe or at the very least to be craftily assassinated as he tried to make Tevinter a better place. This was just disappointing. He hadn’t even had a chance to kiss Cullen. He’d always wanted to kiss that man but he hadn’t dared to actually do it. He valued Cullen’s friendship too much to throw it away just because he hadn’t been able to keep control of his libido. Still, if he was going to die, he’d wanted the chance to look the man in his unfairly attractive face and kiss him, to feel what it would be like to kiss that scar that marred Cullen’s upper lip, to press himself against that warrior’s body.

He _did _whimper then at the unfairness of it all. He could hear the jangling of the Templars’ armour and their terse shouts to each other. He tried to force himself to his feet but his body had had enough. He turned his head and pressed his forehead against the ground. At least it would be quick. From what Cullen had said, these Templars seemed to be the quick execution type rather than the slow torturing sort. One small mercy.__

__The roar that suddenly resounded off the rock around him was unexpected and he gave a start at the sound, though even that adrenaline rush didn’t encourage his body to obey his commands to get up and run. It was close, loud and angry, and he gave a huff of a laugh that was bitter and helpless. This just summed up his luck really. He just hoped the Templars got to him first. He’d much rather have a quick execution than to be eaten alive by whatever beast had made that noise._ _

__Then the screams started. The roaring picked up in volume and it sounded furious. He could hear the sounds of combat and from what he could determine from the panicked, pained screams, the beast was winning. A conclusion that was proven correct when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He rolled his head around so that he could see what was approaching and drew in a sharp breath. It was a lion. A large male lion with an impressive mane of fur around his head and neck. A lion that was prowling towards him with a bloodied muzzle and paws and a pair of impossibly but achingly familiar eyes._ _

__That was when Dorian’s mind finally gave up, much to his relief. His vision began to blur and darken and just before everything went blank, he felt a hand touch his own._ _

____

******

When the Inquisitor had returned to Skyhold without Dorian, Cullen had been concerned but not overly worried. Dorian was a strong mage and perfectly capable of looking after himself. Both he and the Inquisitor had exchanged words to that effect over the War Table, as much as to comfort themselves and each other as anything else. The Inquisitor had been quietly distraught about what had happened to separate them but Blackwall had sustained a serious injury in the chaos of the fight they’d found themselves in and he’d had to bring the Warden back to Skyhold immediately instead of staying and searching for Dorian. It had been the only decision he could have made and Cullen had assured him of that several times but the Inquisitor had been upset anyway.

They’d all expected Dorian to come sauntering back into Skyhold in a day or two, full of boasts about his abilities and complaints about being left behind, however as the days passed and there was no sign of the mage, tension began to rise. Leliana sent her ravens out to every Inquisition camp and agent but the word that came back revealed no trace of Dorian. Josephine had likewise reached out to their various allies but none of them had seen Dorian or offered him assistance. Cullen was overwhelmed with volunteers from the troops, intent on forming search parties.

Finally Cullen couldn’t stand it any longer. He sought out Cassandra and spoke to her privately for a moment then when she nodded and patted his shoulder, he went to the Inquisitor and requested a private meeting.

“Alright, Commander, what’s this all about?” the Inquisitor asked once the door to Adaar’s private quarters closed behind them.

Cullen drew in a deep breath then let it out slowly. “I would like permission to go and look for Dorian. I’ve already spoken to Cassandra and she’s willing to take on my duties while I’m absent.”

Adaar was silent as he contemplated both the request and the requestor. “Why you? We’ve already got people searching for him. Why should I spare you when I need you here?”

Cullen’s hands clenched into fists even though he knew it was a fair question. Adaar wasn’t trying to be obstructionist, just asking a practical question. 

“I… haven’t exactly told you everything,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and refusing to meet the Inquisitor’s eyes.

Adaar chuckled. “You look like I’m about to chew you out. I don’t require full disclosure, Cullen. You are allowed to keep secrets from me as long as they aren’t going to hurt the Inquisition.”

Cullen gave a wan smile. “No, this... doesn’t hurt the Inquisition, though this is something you might find advantageous and I’m not entirely comfortable with it so I suppose there was some… selfishness in keeping it secret.”

“I’m not a tyrant, Cullen,” Adaar said with a hint of exasperation. “I try not to make people do things they’re uncomfortable with. Now spit it out, man. Just rip the bandage off and get it over and done with. It’ll be easier.”

That drew a more genuine laugh out of Cullen and he straightened up. “Shortly before we left Kirkwall… this was after Cassandra had recruited me but she was just finishing off some business before we took ship and I hadn’t officially handed in my resignation… I’d taken a group of Templars out up the Sundermount. There’d been some rumours of a blood mage up there and someone had finally come and made an official report and given us a location. The blood mage was holed up in a cave system and during the search, I got separated from the others. I think it was deliberate. I found myself in a large cave and there was a woman there.”

“Lucky you,” Adaar said with a waggle of his eyebrows and Cullen laughed, feeling a bit of his growing tension bleed out of him.

“Not that kind of woman,” he said then he sobered. “I didn’t recognise her at the time but later on, once we got back to Kirkwall and I could look through some reports and speak to Captain Aveline, I was able to work out who she was – Flemeth, the Witch of the Wilds. The Templars knew of her, though the Order usually left her well enough alone. She was always supposed to live in the Korcari Wilds in Fereldan so what she was doing in Kirkwall is beyond me.”

“I’ve heard of her,” Adaar said. “Powerful mage, not fond of people in general and men in particular was the gist of it as far as I could determine.”

“More or less,” Cullen said. “Anyway, she… was strange. Full of portentous statements that didn’t make any sense. Then when I sort of… snapped at her…”

“Because you’re an idiot or because you’d already stopped taking lyrium and were getting cranky?” Adaar asked with a chuckle.

“A bit of both,” Cullen replied ruefully. “But she didn’t look angry. More amused than anything else. Like she didn’t think I would have the courage to stand up to her and was impressed that I did.” He gave a small shake of his head. “She laughed and said I had the courage of a lion. Then she got strange again and said, ‘He will need that courage so you should have it.’ Then before I could react, she’d cast some sort of spell on me.”

Adaar winced. He’d spoken to Cullen enough to have some idea of where his Commander’s wariness about magic came from. “Ouch.”

“I… may have panicked a little,” Cullen admitted. “But then the spell took effect and I found I was…” He licked his lips. “Erm, maybe it would be best to just show you.”

He stepped back a few paces and Adaar watched with a dawning suspicion as Cullen closed his eyes and promptly shape-shifted into the form of a lion. A very large, impressive and intimidating lion. Who stood in the middle of his rooms looking startlingly sheepish.

“So…” Adaar crossed his arms over his chest. “The Witch of the Wilds gave you the ability to shapeshift into a lion for nebulous reasons that she never bothered to really explain.”

Cullen turned back into a human and shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, rubbing the back of his neck. “That… sums it up well.”

“Does she always do that?”

“I have no idea,” Cullen said, looking a little helpless.

“You’re right, you know,” Adaar said as he absorbed this new information. “I can think of ways this would be incredibly useful but I stand by what I said about not making people do things they find uncomfortable. I have no intention of becoming a bully.”

“Right… good,” Cullen said. “About my request?”

Adaar smiled. “Go. Find him.” He waited until Cullen was halfway down the stairs then called out, “And for Andraste’s sake, will you just kiss the man already when you do.”

He heard the sounds of Cullen missing at least one step, possibly two, and chuckled. He then sobered and headed for the stairs himself. He needed to speak to Cassandra and then possibly Leliana.

*******

When Dorian woke, he was very surprised. Between the Templars and the enormous lion, he honestly hadn’t expected to wake up ever again, let alone wake up in what appeared to be a small, slightly dilapidated hut. He was equally surprised to find himself tucked up in a narrow bed with what looked like Cullen’s fur monstrosity draped over him for added warmth.

A moment later, the man in question came into view. He looked very relieved to see that Dorian was awake and came over to the bed. Dorian took one look at the man’s eyes and drew in a sharp breath. Those eyes. They were _exactly_ the same as the lion’s eyes. The lion’s eyes had been _Cullen’s_.

“It was _you_!” he blurted out before he could think.

The uncertain, guilty look on Cullen’s face was all the confirmation he needed. He tried to sit up but when he did, every muscle screamed in protest and he slumped back onto the bed. 

“Ow,” he said a touch petulantly then he looked over at Cullen again. “The lion,” he said accusingly. “It was _you_. How? You’re not a mage.”

Cullen came over hesitantly and sat down in the wooden chair next to the bed. “I… no, I’m not. But I had an… encounter with a mage. She… did this to me.”

“What else can you do?”

“Nothing,” Cullen said. “Just… that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dorian demanded, aware that he sound like a bratty child but unable to stop himself. 

“No one knows other than Cassandra,” Cullen said a touch irritably. “And the Inquisitor. I… I had to tell him in order to get permission to come after you.”

“No one else was searching for me?” Dorian asked, hurt starting to gather in his heart. He knew he was the Skyhold pariah but he’d hoped that at least a token search party had been sent out.

Cullen seemed to pick up on that and he reached out and took hold of Dorian’s hand. “Yes! Of course we were. We had search parties out and both Leliana and Josephine were contacting everyone they knew to try and find you. The Inquisitor didn’t leave you behind lightly, Dorian. Blackwall had been seriously injured and he had to get him back to Skyhold.”

“Oh, of course that hairy lummox is more important than me,” Dorian huffed sulkily. He knew he was being illogical and childish but he was still feeling the effects of the relentless pursuit as well as the surprise of what Cullen was. Anyone who’d known him even remotely well back home wouldn’t have been surprised at the bad behaviour.

“You’re both important,” Cullen said with a patience that surprised and humbled Dorian. “We thought you’d come walking back into Skyhold, insulting everyone for leaving you behind, but when you didn’t… everyone was worried.” He chuckled softly. “Blackwall even roundly cursed the Inquisitor for leaving you behind. He was on a lot of potions at the time but I think the Inquisitor was of the opinion Blackwall was right. He’s been beating himself up ever since he got back without you.”

“Oh,” Dorian said, feeling decidedly nonplussed. What did it say about him that he was more comfortable feeling hurt and angry at being the unwanted pariah than he was feeling absurdly grateful and happy that he wasn’t? “So, you decided to unveil your little shape-changing ability and come after me.”

He was surprised to see Cullen duck his head and blush. 

“Yes.”

“Oh,” Dorian said, feeling nonplussed again. Instead of trusting the search parties would find him, Cullen had taken the risk and revealed something he clearly wasn’t comfortable with to a man who could potentially choose to put that ability to the Inquisition’s use, whether Cullen wanted him to or not. What did that mean? Did it mean anything at all? “I… thank you.”

The smile that Cullen gave him in reply was devastating. It was sweet and happy and it made Dorian want to climb into Cullen’s lap and kiss the man senseless. However, instead of doing that, he yawned.

Cullen chuckled and let go of his hand. “Get some rest. You look exhausted.”

Dorian wanted to protest but sleep ambushed him before he could even get a word out.

******

When he woke for the second time, Dorian realised that he was still in that dilapidated hut. He felt awake enough to actually look around this time. It wasn’t much of a hut – small, rickety, with little more than the bed and a table and chair that had seen better days. The single window of the hut stood open, letting in the cool mountain air and enough light to tell him that it was day time.

Cullen was sitting at the table, writing a missive of some description as one of Leliana’s ubiquitous ravens perched on the table watching him beadily. His mantle was still lying on top of the blankets covering Dorian but he had also shed his armour and gauntlets and was wearing only a thin shirt over his breeches and boots. He didn’t seem cold though Dorian could tell the air in the hut wasn’t overly warm.

As he watched, Cullen rolled up the missive and tied it to raven’s leg. He lifted the creature onto his arm then carried over to the window and gave it a boost. He watched it fly away then raised his arms over his head in a good long stretch. Dorian couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the Commander so relaxed. It was a remarkably good look on him.

“Where exactly are we?” he asked as he levered himself into a sitting position. That was when he realised that Cullen had not only removed his boots before putting him to bed but also his overrobe and the top of his under-armour. He mentally congratulated the man for figuring out how to do that and silently hoped he hadn’t simply gotten frustrated and cut him out of it.

Cullen gave a start and lowered his arms hastily as he turned around. “I didn’t know you were awake.”

“I only just woke up,” Dorian said. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

Cullen walked over and sat down. “It’s a shepherd’s hut. It’s too early for the sheep herders to have their flocks up here but they’d seen the Templars go past and suggested you might have holed up here. After I found you, it seemed the best place to bring you.”

Dorian picked at the fur of Cullen’s mantle. “What happened to the Templars?”

Cullen looked down then raised his head, his expression firm and unforgiving. “They didn’t survive.”

Dorian nodded. It wasn’t an unexpected answer given the screaming he’d heard nor did he particularly mourn those men. They hadn’t even asked questions before leaping to the cry of ‘Apostate’. He was a fully qualified Enchanter of the Minrathous Circle, for Andraste’s sake! He was _not_ an apostate.

He was about to ask another question when his stomach growled and he realised he was ravenous. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he ate. Cullen snickered and he glared at the man.

“I don’t suppose you have anything to eat with you?”

Cullen nodded as he got to his feet. “Only bread and cheese, I’m afraid. I was a bit limited as to what I could bring with me.”

He picked up a small satchel that had been lying on the table and brought it over, handing it to Dorian. The mage opened the satchel and found the aforementioned bread and cheese along with a small waterskin.

“You can have all of that,” Cullen said. “There’s a small stream not far from here and that message was going to the nearest camp to summon an escort group. They should be here by this afternoon. Evening at the latest. They’ll have more food and supplies and we can leave with them tomorrow morning. They’ll also let Skyhold know I found you.”

Dorian thought about protesting that he couldn’t take Cullen’s food but then his stomach growled again, louder than before, and he quickly set about eating. Never had simple bread and cheese and water tasted so divine and he had force himself not to scoff down the whole lot like a savage.

“You said a mage did this to you?” he asked once the worst of his hunger had been assuaged. “Why?”

Cullen snorted and shrugged. “I have no idea. It was the Witch of the Wilds and I’m not sure anyone understands why she does what she does. For what it’s worth, all she about the whole thing was that some amorphous ‘he’ would need a lion’s courage and I should have it.”

“Very mysterious,” Dorian said with a roll of his eyes. “I sincerely hope she didn’t mean _me_ with all that mumbo jumbo. If so, she could have at least just told you what was going to happen so we could have avoided it in the first place. As much as I’m delighted you came to rescue me and curious about this little ability of yours, I’d rather have forgone the terror and exhaustion part of the whole thing.”

“So would I, for that matter,” Cullen replied.

Dorian finished off the last of the food and gestured to Cullen. “Will you let me see? I wasn’t really in much shape to take it in last time.”

Cullen hesitated then nodded and stood up. He moved into the centre of the hut and a moment later, the enormous lion loomed large, making the hut look even smaller by comparison. Dorian stared in utter fascination before pushing the blankets back and swinging his legs around to sit properly on the side of the bed. He still felt stiff and sore but at least he could move without every muscle screaming at him now.

“Fasta vass,” he breathed. “Cullen, you’re magnificent.”

He chuckled as the huge lion somehow managed to look shy and bashful and knew that if the human Cullen was standing there, he’d be blushing a delightful shade of crimson. Then the lion’s eyes lit up with a mirth he’d only rarely seen from the man and he padded forward and proceeded to lick Dorian’s face from jawline to temple.

“Argh!” Dorian said, reeling back as much from surprise as at the feel of that raspy tongue on his face then he buried his hands in Cullen’s mane and tried to shove him away. With the emphasis on ‘ _tried_ ’ as his actions made no difference to the massive lion. 

“You brute!” he yelled then he saw the twinkle in the lion’s eyes and he gripped the mane a little tighter as Cullen tried to close in and do it again. “No, no! Stop that!” The effect was entirely spoiled by the laughter that was bubbling over into his voice. “You overgrown house cat! I should have known you’d be a complete savage.”

Cullen ignored him and pressed forward until Dorian was sprawled on the bed and then he rested his head on Dorian’s chest, his front paws on either side of the mage, and began to purr. Dorian tried shoving at him again but it was fruitless and he slumped down onto the bed with his hands still buried in Cullen’s mane and the purr reverberating through his chest making him relax more than he’d ever thought it would. Cullen was a warm, heavy but comforting weight on top of him and his fur was unbelievably soft.

“You know, when I pictured ending up in bed with you, this wasn’t quite what I had in mind,” he said without thinking.

He froze and winced when the purring stopped and the huge lion backed off. Now he’d done it. He’d screwed things up completely because he hadn’t bother to _think_ before opening his big mouth. He sat up and watched as Cullen transformed back. The man stood there for a moment and simply stared at him in surprise and shock.

“You… you’ve thought about… us?” Cullen asked, a naked hope in his voice that was entirely unexpected. “You… you want that?”

Dorian stared back in silence for a moment then he nodded. “Yes,” he said almost meekly.

Cullen made an inarticulate sound and lunged forward, falling to his knees in front of Dorian. He cradled Dorian’s face and the mage found himself being kissed oh so gently but so very lovingly. He whimpered and buried his hands in Cullen’s hair, returning the kiss as fervently as he dared.

“I never thought…” he whispered when they finally broke apart. “I didn’t think you’d ever want this with me.”

Cullen gave a hoarse laugh. “Dorian, I told my biggest secret to the Inquisitor to convince him to let me search for you but… even if he’d forbidden it, I’d still have come.”

Dorian went still for a moment. He knew how much Cullen valued his position in the Inquisition and to say he’d have risked it all to come after _him_ …

“You ridiculous man,” he said, resting his forehead against Cullen’s. “You can’t give up something like your _entire career_ for me.”

Cullen chuckled. “I don’t think it would have gone _that_ badly. The Inquisitor likes you and Cassandra would have a great many things to say to him if he dismissed me for something like this. At worst I would have been reprimanded and possibly suspended for a while.”

“Still…”

Cullen silenced him with a kiss and Dorian would have complained but Cullen was kissing him and he could never complain about that.

“Besides,” Cullen said when the kiss ended. “The Inquisitor is the one who told me to kiss you when I found you.”

Dorian gaped at him. “What?”

Cullen blushed and smiled ruefully. “What he said was, and I quote, ‘Go. Find him. And for Andraste’s sake, will you just kiss the man already when you do’.”

Dorian stared at him and briefly wondered how many people knew of his… feelings for the Commander. Because if Adaar had noticed than his skills at concealment were obviously slipping. Unless it was _Bull_ who had noticed and told Adaar, which made a great deal more sense, mostly because it would have been impossible for Bull _not_ to notice given how many times he’d whined to the Qunari about how unfairly attractive Cullen was and how the Commander should be kissing him instead of working so hard.

Still… he put on a mock-indignant look. “Well, it took you long enough.”

Cullen laughed fondly. “I know you flirt with me but I… well, I wasn’t sure if you meant it or you just liked making me blush.”

“It can’t be both?” Dorian asked with a wicked smile. “Because I _did_ mean it and I _do_ like making you blush.” Cullen duly did just that and Dorian laughed. “Just like that.”

He started to shift and pull Cullen towards him. “Now come up here. That floor must be murdering your knees.”

Cullen’s blush deepened but he let himself be manoeuvred onto the bed. However when Dorian pulled him on top, he gave a yelp and braced himself on both hands.

“I’ll be too heavy,” he protested.

“I don’t care,” Dorian said. 

There was a moment of struggle then Cullen relented and let himself be pulled down so that he was resting on top of Dorian, their legs tanged together. He could feel himself getting hard and knew that Dorian couldn’t miss it either. He groaned and buried his face in Dorian’s neck before realising that was a mistake given all the skin he now had access to.

Dorian closed his eyes at both the feeling of Cullen’s hardness against his hip and the sensation of the man’s breath on his skin. He couldn’t help the slow roll of his hips up against Cullen’s and he gave a helpless laugh.

“When did you say those soldiers would be getting here?”

“Early afternoon,” Cullen replied and Dorian shivered at the sound of his voice so close to his ear.

“Good.” He rolled his hips up again, with more intent this time. “I know there are things we should talk about but right now I want you to fuck me, Cullen. If you don’t I’m going to end up thinking this is all a dream and there’s a desire demon tormenting me…”

Cullen cut him off with a kiss and where the other kisses they’d shared had been sweet and tender and chaste, this one was anything but. Cullen’s mouth was hot and demanding and he started to meet the movement of Dorian’s hips.

He tore his mouth away from Dorian’s and gasped, “I don’t have anything…”

“Kaffas!” Dorian swore. 

He pulled at Cullen’s shirt until the man yanked it off and then he pushed Cullen up a bit while he shoved down both their pants and smalls, leaving them bunched awkwardly at their knees. Cullen swore this time and kicked off his clothes before dragging Dorian’s trousers and smalls of as well and tossing them on the floor. Dorian spread his legs and Cullen groaned at the sight before lowering himself down so that their hard cocks nestled against each other.

They were still for a moment before Dorian ran his hands down Cullen’s back and grabbed his arse, pulling him into motion. “Move, my lion.”

Cullen made a rumbling sound that honestly could have come from his lion form and began to thrust against Dorian. He buried his hands in the mage’s hair and captured his mouth in a heated kiss as they moved against each other, slow undulations at first but then faster and harder as desire overtook both of them. The precome leaking from both their cocks made the slide easier with each thrust and Cullen seemed intent on devouring Dorian’s mouth, something the mage only encouraged.

Dorian came first, crying out his completion into Cullen’s mouth. He kept moving though and it wasn’t long before Cullen gave a roar his lion form would have been proud of and spilled over onto Dorian’s stomach and chest. He collapsed on top of Dorian as they both fought to catch their breath.

Finally Cullen moved with a murmur of apology and shifted them both on the narrow bed so that they were lying side by side, facing each other, their legs tangled together once more. He reached down for one of the blankets and wiped them both clean before tossing it onto the floor and drawing Dorian close again.

Dorian was content to float in the haze of post-sex euphoria for a while but it wasn’t long before all his concerns and worries came rushing back. He nuzzled into Cullen’s neck for a moment, kissing the warm skin, before pulling back just enough to look Cullen in the face.

“So… what is this then?”

Cullen frowned, looking confused. “What do you mean?”

Dorian chewed on his bottom lip until Cullen distracted him by kissing him briefly. “In Tevinter, anything between two men is… fleeting. Pure pleasure, nothing more.”

Cullen gave a soft huff of laughter. “Dorian,” he said patiently. “I told the Inquisitor my greatest secret so he would let me come and find you.”

Dorian frowned. “You’ve said that already.”

“Yes, I have.” Cullen gave him a significant look as though he couldn’t believe Dorian didn’t get it. “I gave that information to the man who has the power to do order me to do just about anything because I couldn’t bear to stay another hour in that keep not knowing where you were and that you were coming back… to me.”

Dorian stared at him as all the pieces fell into place. His eyes widened and he blushed, his cheeks pink and his face full of wonder. He didn’t think anyone had ever loved him the way Cullen did, not even his parents. It was terrifying, it was overwhelming, it was… 

_Wonderful_.

“Amatus,” he said, his voice choked. 

He wanted to say more but he couldn’t find the words. Cullen seemed to know them anyway, he smiled and kissed him.

“So as for what this is?” Cullen said. “It’s everything. If you want it.”

Dorian tried to get even closer than he was, an impossible task but one he managed anyway. “Of _course_ I want it, you wretched man. How dare you think that I don’t?”

Cullen chuckled and ran his hand through Dorian’s hair before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Good.”

Dorian lay there for a moment, letting Cullen’s touch settle him, then he frowned a little. “And your… lion self? You know it’s only a matter of time before Adaar starts making requests. He’s a good man but… he’s got the fate of Thedas resting on his shoulders. It’s inevitable that he’ll ask. He’ll hate himself for it but he’ll do it.”

Cullen sighed. “I know. I knew the moment I told him that there was a good chance he wouldn’t be able to keep his word. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“And maybe burn it?” Dorian said, unable to stop himself.

Cullen shifted a little then sighed again. “Maybe. But whatever decision is made, we’ll make it together.”

Dorian smiled. He liked the sound of that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Orlesian noble is parading a 'tame' lion around Val Royeaux. This time it's Dorian's turn to go to the rescue.

Dorian stalked away from Skyhold at an almost frantic pace. His hands were clenched into fists and he very firmly ignored the frantic calls of his name from the Inquisitor. He was furious with the Vashoth archer right now and he knew that if he stopped to speak to him, there were likely to be fireballs. He really didn’t have any particular urge to see the insides of Skyhold’s cells for maiming the Inquisitor.

“Oi, Sparkler!”

Dorian didn’t turn but he did slow down to allow Varric to catch up to him.

“What do you want, Varric?” he said tersely.

“You didn’t think I was going to let you go after Curly on your own, did you?”

“You didn’t think _we_ were going to let you go after Cullen on your own, you mean,” came Cassandra’s voice, startling Dorian enough that he turned to see who else was there.

Varric was huffing and puffing along beside him and Cassandra was matching his stride on the other side of Varric. Behind them was Sera who attempting to look casual.

“What?” she said when she realised Dorian was looking at her. “Your Cully-Wully can take a joke, can’t he? Can’t let ‘im be stuck wherever he is.”

Dorian’s head whipped forward and his cheeks went pink. He’d known that their relationship wasn’t exactly a secret but the idea that Cullen was _his_ still had the power to fluster him even under the current circumstances.

“The Inquisitor is going to be furious,” was all he would say.

Cassandra made a scoffing sound. “The Inquisitor will _not_ be furious because he knows what we are doing and he approves. Which you would have known if you had bothered to _listen_ to him instead of going off half-cocked.”

Now Dorian stopped and he turned to stare at Cassandra. “ _What_?”

She gave him an utterly exasperated look. “You overheard him giving stock answers to Orlesian nobles he needed to placate. He always intended to send people after Cullen, including you.” She huffed at him. “After letting Cullen go after you, did you really think he would deny you the same opportunity?”

All of the righteous anger and indignation Dorian had been harbouring and stoking since he’d heard Adaar so flippantly dismissing his Commander’s disappearance suddenly drained out of him and he actually staggered for a moment. He suddenly found Sera leaning against him, propping him up, and he gave her a wan smile.

Cassandra softened and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Cullen is his _friend_. You _know_ that. The Inquisitor asked him to do this and he has been devastated by what happened. He would never leave Cullen there.”

“You know… for those of us in the cheap seats, it’d be nice to know what’s actually going on,” Varric said dryly. “Because all I know is that Lord Muckety-Muck or whatever his name is that you’ve been cursing to the Maker is parading around Val Royeaux with a pet lion. I haven’t heard anything about Curly being held prisoner. So unless you’re going to say that the lion is…”

He broke off and stared at Dorian and Cassandra’s rather stricken expressions. Sera looked between all three of them with a frown then her eyes widened.

“Wha? Cully-Wully’s a mage? Bollocks!”

“No, he’s _not_ a mage,” Dorian snapped. “He just… got tangled up with a mage who gave him the ability to turn into a lion.”

“What’d he want to do that for?” Sera said with distaste.

Dorian bit back on his first reply and his hands clenched into fists. “ _Sera_ ,” he ground out through gritted teeth. “I really don’t have the patience right now for your opinions on magic. Cullen is being held _prisoner_. It doesn’t matter what form he is in. If you can’t handle that, go back to Skyhold.”

Sera looked offended for a moment then an expression of contrition grew on her face. Dorian waved off her apology before she could make it and started walking down the road again. The others quickly fell in beside him and this time he kept his pace to something that didn’t force Varric to practically run.

“Cullen had a run in with Flemeth, the Witch of the Wilds,” he said tersely.

“I’ve met her,” Varric said with a shake of his head. “She’s… an odd one.”

Dorian made a harrumphing sound. “That she is. For some reason, she decided to give Cullen the ability to turn into a lion. He used that ability to track me down a few months ago but he had to tell the Inquisitor. Three weeks ago, Adaar asked him to do some nosing around in south-eastern Orlais. There have been rumours about Red Templars lurking around there. But the place is infested with wyverns and Adaar figured that the wyverns might be less inclined to go after a fellow predator than they have been with people.”

“Leliana’s last attempt to get scouts into the region left her with one scout eaten and three seriously injured,” Cassandra added.

“What nobody anticipated was that Lord Merovan would choose that moment to go wyvern hunting and then decide that having a lion as a pet was the next best thing,” Dorian said, an edge of hysteria in his voice. “What we don’t know is how he caught Cullen but that doesn’t really matter right now.”

“How come Curly hasn’t escaped?” Varric asked. “Seems like it’d be simple enough to change back at an appropriate time and sneak away.”

“We don’t know,” Dorian said thickly. He’d been wondering that himself. “The descriptions Leliana’s people have sent back say that the lion is acting unusually docile. They don’t know if it’s magic or if he’s drugging Cullen or what’s happening.” 

“Does he know the lion’s your Cully-Wully?” Sera asked with that sharp intelligence that she occasionally showed.

The reply stuck in Dorian’s throat and he swallowed hard.

“We don’t know,” Cassandra said on his behalf. She looked sombre and worried. “The general consensus is no. Lord Merovan is not a supporter of the Inquisition. He has never _actively_ opposed us but Leliana says it is telling that he felt comfortable enough to go hunting in an area reputed to be controlled by the Red Templars. She believes that if he knew the lion was the Inquisition’s Commander, we would have had some sort of ransom demand by now, if not from him then from Samson. There has been nothing.”

Dorian flinched at that and struggled to not increase his pace in his urgency to get to Val Royeaux. He’d have taken a horse but he’d thought he was working _against_ the Inquisitor and hadn’t wanted to add horse-stealing to any potential charges of mutiny. Besides, he’d thought by leaving on foot, Adaar might let him go and forget him. Taking a horse would have guaranteed pursuit.

“So what’s the plan once we get to Val Royeaux?” Varric asked.

“I… hadn’t actually thought things through that far,” Dorian admitted.

“Well, it’s easy, innit?” Sera said. “Big muckety-muck like that’s going to have servants and prolly ones who don’t like him. They’ll talk.”

“She’s right,” Varric said. “Leave that side of things to me and Buttercup. I take it you want to know where Curly is and how we can get to him.”

Dorian nodded. “And what they’re doing to him. That docility worries me. He’s _big_ as a lion, easily big enough to overwhelm a man, even two or three men. He may be playing along until he can find a way of getting away but… I’m not sure.”

Sera suddenly sniggered. “ _Big_ , eh? Always knew Cully-Wully had a big sword. Eh? Geddit?”

It was a silly bit of juvenile innuendo that Dorian normally would have rolled his eyes at and ignored but now it startled a laugh out of him and once he started, he couldn’t seem to stop. He could hear the hysterical edge to his laughter, the result of three weeks of worry being capped off by the fear he’d been harbouring since he first heard the description of the lion being paraded around Val Royeaux and what he’d thought had been the Inquisitor’s betrayal.

He felt Cassandra’s arm go round his waist to keep him upright and moving while Sera babbled away at Varric who was busy placating her. From what he could decipher through his wild laughter, he seemed to be frightening her. The next thing he knew, he was being pushed down to sit on a small boulder and that was enough to enable him to get a modicum of control over himself.

“Sorry,” he said weakly.

“Don’t do that,” Sera said crossly. “Makes you sound mad. Don’t like the thought of you bein’ mad.”

“Buttercup’s right in her own way,” Varric said, looking worried. “You need to get a grip, Sparkler. If Curly is being drugged or magicked in some way, you’re probably the only one who can get through to him.”

Dorian swallowed hard and nodded, drawing the tattered remnants of his composure around him. “You’re right, you’re right.” He got to his feet. “Come on. Let’s go.”

*******

They’d been in Val Royeaux for three days and Dorian was quietly going out of his mind. They’d taken shelter at the home of one of their staunchest supporters and he and Cassandra had been laying low while Sera and Varric ferreted around for information. Lady Laurent, who had given them rooms, was diplomatic enough to not ask any questions and had made merely an offer of assistance should they need it before making herself studiously scarce.

Cassandra had stalked out of the rooms earlier in the afternoon, driven to distraction by Dorian’s pacing. He was probably lucky she hadn’t slugged him on the way out and they were now occupying themselves at opposite ends of the house. When the door burst open and Sera and Varric burst in with Cassandra on their heels, Dorian would deny to his dying breath that he yelped like a startled pup. 

“We’ve got it, Sparkler,” Varric said with relief. “Where he’s being kept and the way in.”

“Lucky us that Lord Muckety-Muck’s a pig to his people,” Sera crowed. “They were happy to help once we said we wouldn’t drag ‘em into it.”

Varric grinned tightly. “She’s right. They gave us the information we needed but the rest is up to us.”

Dorian grabbed at Varric’s shoulder. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense, Varric!”

“They’ve got him chained up in a cell or cage of some sort in a building out the back of the estate,” Varric replied. “They’re drugging his food and water to keep him quiet until Lord Merovan can get some sort of specialist animal trainer down from Antiva. The servants will leave the side gate unlocked so we can get in and they told us the guard patrol patterns and the lay of the land inside the building.”

Varric shoved past him towards the desk when he grabbed paper and a pencil and began writing things down and sketching out a map. The others gathered round and they began making plans.

In the end, getting into Merovan’s estate was easy enough with the information they had. The gate was duly left unlocked and they were able to slip past the patrolling guards with only a few minor scares. The first sticking point came when they reached the building where Cullen was being kept. A guard sat in a chair outside the only way in or out and though he looked bored, when Sera tested the waters by throwing a stone, he proved to be alert enough. She narrowed her eyes and looked annoyed.

“Leave it with me,” was all she said before she disappeared off into the darkness.

They waited tensely and Dorian was on the verge of using magic when there was suddenly an almighty outcry from the front of the property. The guard jerked to his feet and after listening to the shouts for a moment, he drew his sword and took off at a run. Sera reappeared a moment later and she was chortling to herself with smug glee.

“What did you do?” Cassandra asked suspiciously.

“You don’t want to know,” Sera giggled.

Cassandra opened her mouth to argue but closed it when Varric shook his head.

“Trust me, Seeker, if she says you don’t want to know, you _really_ don’t want to know.”

Dorian ignored them and headed straight for the door. He grabbed hold of the handle then swore when he realised it was locked. Varric shouldered him aside with a wry look.

“This is why you brought us,” he said as he pulled out a set of lockpicks and got to work. “Or we brought us. Same thing.”

A moment later the lock clicked and Varric opened the door. He stepped aside adroitly as Dorian rushed past. The others were hot on his heels as they made their way down to the basement. They heard the sound of the lion before they saw him. The strange chuffing, snorting, growling sound wasn’t one Dorian had heard from Cullen in this form before and it worried him. They emerged into the wide corridor of the basement and hurried along until they got to the cage where Cullen was being kept.

“Cor blimey, he’s huge!” Sera said.

Dorian didn’t pay her any attention. His was entirely on the lion inside the cell. The lion that was Cullen was wearing a metal collar and there were chains stretching from the collar to two of the walls where they were padlocked to large iron rings. The chains were just long enough to allow Cullen to lie down but not much more. But it was the lion’s behaviour that had Dorian rushing forward. Cullen was standing and his head was weaving back and forth as he made that strange chuffing growl. He seemed confused and angry and occasionally he snarled and made half-hearted roaring sounds.

“Cullen,” Dorian said with anguish then he said again, louder this time, “Cullen!”

The lion didn’t seem to hear him at first but then he raised his head and looked at the mage. Dorian made a small sound of distress to see no signs of recognition in those amber eyes, only a confused dazed look.

“ _Amatus_ ,” Dorian said, not realising how heart-broken he sounded. He grabbed the keys hanging on the wall beside the door to the cage and before any of the others could stop him, he unlocked the door and rushed into the cage, dropping the keys behind him.

The lion roared drunkenly and lunged at him as best as he could before being brought up by the chains but Dorian didn’t even hesitate. He _did_ skip away from the lion’s clumsy lunge but then he was on his knees beside the lion and burying his hands in his mane.

“Cullen!” he pleaded. “It’s me!”

The lion tried to turn and bite before being brought up short by the chains on his collar then he suddenly went still.

“Dammit, Sparkler!” 

Dorian heard Varric yell from behind him but he ignored it. The lion had gone very still and a moment later, he began to nuzzle into Dorian’s neck making small sounds of distress. Dorian gave a sigh of relief and shifted around so that he could look in the animal’s eyes. This time he saw Cullen looking back at him, albeit a confused and dazed Cullen.

“Amatus?” he said hesitantly.

The lion whined and licked his face, drawing a strained giggle out of Dorian at that familiar action that brought back memories of the first time he’d seen Cullen like this. They both gave a start when one of the chains attached to Cullen’s collar went slack and clattered onto the floor. Dorian looked around to find Cassandra giving him an exasperated glare as she hurried over to the other wall.

“You might like to try _telling_ us what you’re going to do before you give us a collective heart attack,” she said sharply.

She unlocked the second chain then tossed the keys to Dorian. He examined the collar, trying to find how it was locked closed, something made difficult by the way Cullen was trying to nose into his neck again with little snuffling noises that Dorian would absolutely deny were adorable.

“Amatus,” he protested, shoving the lion’s head away. “Let me get you out of this.”

The lion rumbled but stood still enough for Dorian to find the padlock and unlock it. He pulled the collar off and flung it into the corner. He grabbed Cullen’s mane and started pulling him towards the door.

“Come on, Cullen. We have to get out of here.”

Cullen did his best to help but he was unsteady on his feet and it was only when Cassandra grabbed hold of Cullen on the other side that they were able to steady him enough to move quickly. Sera sprinted on ahead to make sure the coast was clear and they hurried the lion through the grounds and out of the gate. Sera and Varric ranged ahead of them as they guided Cullen back to Lady Laurent’s house through the back streets and alleyways. Once they were inside the back yard, Varric shut the gate behind them and locked it and they all stopped and gave sighs of relief.

Dorian crouched down in front of Cullen and grabbed hold of his head to steady it. The lion’s eyes were clearer than they had been but he still looked dazed.

“Can you change back?”

The lion rumbled under his breath and closed his eyes then he opened them again and whined.

“Alright… it’s alright,” Dorian said, rubbing gently under Cullen’s chin. “We’ve just got to let whatever they were drugging you with get out of your system.”

The lion made a distressed sound then seemed to notice the others. He made a grumbling noise and nudged at Dorian.

“Don’t look at me,” Dorian said, feeling lighter than he had in days. “I didn’t invite them along.”

“Someone had to keep Sparkler out of trouble,” Varric said with a grin. “You’re pretty impressive there, Curly.”

Cullen rumbled and then swayed on his feet. Dorian steadied him as best as he could. “Let’s get you inside,” he said dryly. “We don’t want anyone looking out here and seeing a lion.”

Between the two of them, Dorian and Cassandra got Cullen inside, up the stairs and into Dorian’s room. Cassandra left them at that point and Cullen made two attempts at jumping up on the bed before succeeding at the third. Once there, he gave a huff and slumped down with his head between his paws.

“Comfy?” Dorian asked dryly, though he couldn’t stop the smile that was on his face. He hadn’t expected it to go so easily and he made a mental note to find a way to thank Sera properly for whatever horrible thing she’d done to draw off the guards for the length of time it had taken for them to get Cullen out of there.

Cullen made a huffing noise and gave him a slightly disoriented look. Dorian chuckled and pulled off his overrobe and boots. He climbed onto the bed and settled down. A moment after he did, he had Cullen’s head on his chest and the lion began to purr unsteadily.

“You sound like you’re drunk.”

Cullen huffed and closed his eyes. Dorian laughed and began to run his hands through Cullen’s mane, which started the purring again, a deep resonating unsteady sound that made every muscle in Dorian’s body relax and he soon drifted off to sleep as the stress of the last few weeks caught up to him.

When he woke, it was to the feeling of someone running their hand through his hair. He mumbled something incoherent under his breath and slowly prised open his eyes. Cullen was lying on his side next to him, looking tired, slightly grubby and with several days growth of beard on his face. Dorian didn’t give a damn because Cullen’s eyes were clear and steady.

He reached out and pulled Cullen into a desperate kiss that his lover made no attempt to escape. If anything, Cullen kissed him back just as fervently and they were both a little breathless when they finally parted. Cullen immediately curled around him and buried his face in Dorian’s neck.

“Maker,” he said, his voice a little muffled. “I thought I was never going to get out of there.”

Dorian wrapped his arms around the other man and pressed a kiss against his hair. “You didn’t think we would come for you?”

Cullen raised his head and smiled slightly. “I knew _you_ would.”

Dorian’s breath caught and he dragged Cullen into a searching kiss. “Of course I would, you wretched man.”

Cullen laughed against his lips then pulled away. “Did I… was that Cassandra with you?”

Dorian nodded. “And Varric and Sera.” Cullen blinked and looked surprised. Dorian tapped him on the nose. “You _do_ have friends, you know?”

“I know,” Cullen said with a huff of a laugh. “I just… didn’t realise Sera was among them. She mostly likes to play pranks.”

“I think that’s her way of saying she likes you,” Dorian said dryly then he shoved at Cullen. “Now, up! Up! To the bath with you. You stink and you need a shave. I refuse to be seen with a hobo. Having to be seen with Solas is bad enough.”

Cullen chuckled but let himself be pushed to his feet and over to the bathing room and when Dorian joined him and started washing his hair then his back… then all sorts of other places, well…

It was nearly an hour before they emerged from the bathing room. Cullen felt clean for the first time in days and he pulled on the clothes Dorian had brought for him with a sigh of relief. It wasn’t his armour but the simple shirt, breeches and boots were clean and that was more than enough. He rubbed his hand over his clean-shaven chin and grimaced.

“What are you making that face for?” Dorian asked, pressing against him and running his fingers along Cullen’s jawline. “As much as I love your scruff, the clean-shaven look really does work for you, Amatus.”

Cullen was about to reply when there was a single knock on the door then Sera burst in, giggling with glee and followed more decorously by Varric and Cassandra.

“Hope you’re not _sword-fighting_ ,” Sera carolled then she harrumphed when she saw that they were wrapped around each other. “No lovey-dovey stuff. We want explanations!”

“Sorry,” Varric said with a grin. “It’s like herding a kitten who’s been into the catmint.”

Sera poked out her tongue at him and bounded over to one of the armchairs before leaping into it and sitting cross-legged. “Come on!”

“Please just humour her,” Cassandra said with a roll of her eyes. “She has been impossible.”

Cullen chuckled and he and Dorian sat down on the couch. They sat close and when Cullen wrapped his arm around Dorian’s shoulders, the mage blushed faintly but didn’t shy away from the touch. Cassandra took the other armchair and Varric leaned against the back of the Seeker’s chair.

“Are you alright, Cullen?” Cassandra asked before anyone else could say anything.

Cullen nodded. “I’m a little tired but I’m fine.”

“Sparkler told us what you were up to,” Varric said. “How did you get caught?”

Cullen sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Bad luck mostly. I got caught between a bunch of wyverns, a bog and the hunters. There was no way I could have gone through the wyverns. They were wary of me when they were on their own but once they bunched up, they had no fear. I was about to attempt the bog when the hunters made their move. They had these glass grenades full of some sort of sleeping gas. For the wyverns, I suppose, but it worked well enough on me.”

“You weren’t able to escape?” Cassandra asked.

“No, unfortunately,” Cullen said with a shake of his head. “They were drugging my food and water right from the start. I could barely concentrate, certainly not enough to change back.” He looked around. “How did you get me out? I sort of remember you being there but not the details.”

“It was mostly Sera and Varric,” Dorian admitted. “I didn’t really have a plan when I left Skyhold.”

“That’s because you stormed out without listening to anyone,” Varric said dryly. “It was very dramatic, Sparkler, but not very efficient.”

Dorian blushed and Cullen looked at him and then the others. “Someone want to explain?” he asked.

“Dorian overheard the Inquisitor making light of your disappearance to a couple of the Orlesian nobles Leliana and Josephine are suspicious of and he overreacted,” Cassandra said with exasperation.

Cullen looked down at Dorian who was refusing to meet his eyes. He slid his fingers under the mage’s chin and raised his head.

“Dorian, the Inquisitor didn’t order me to do this,” he said softly. “He _asked_ and then spent most of the rest of the time trying to talk us both out of it and beating himself up for even asking when he _knows_ I’m… not exactly comfortable with this ability.”

“He said he wasn’t going to ask in the first place,” Dorian said a little sullenly.

Cullen snorted. “You and I both knew he was never going to be able to keep that promise. _Kaaras Adaar_ might be able to but not the Inquisitor.”

“You could have said no,” Dorian muttered. “And you could have told me before you left. I thought you’d been ordered to do this.”

“I could have said no but people had already died,” Cullen replied. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, which had settled into a wealth of curls after his bath, much to Dorian’s delight. “And you’re right. I should have told you. I’m sorry, Dorian.”

Varric startled them by clapping his hands together. “Alright, Seeker, Buttercup! We’ve got the gist of things and this is a conversation we don’t need to be a part of anymore.”

Cassandra looked amused but nodded and got to her feet. “I agree.”

“Why not?” Sera said with a frown.

“Because lovers’ quarrels always end the same way,” Varric replied.

“Jousting!” Sera said, bouncing in her seat then she jumped up and bounded towards the door. “Ew, yeah, we don’t need to see that.”

Cullen watched the door close behind the three of them with wry amusement then looked at Dorian. “Are we going to have a lovers’ quarrel?”

“I’m considering it,” Dorian grumbled. “I thought the Inquisitor was using you against your will.” He hesitated for a moment then ran a hand down his face. “I was terrified, Amatus. I thought…

Cullen caught his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. “I’m sorry.”

“And now I feel selfish,” Dorian said with a frown. “You were held prisoner and here I am making you apologise for it.”

“No, I’m apologising for not telling you about what I was doing,” Cullen replied. He smiled wryly. “I’m afraid I don’t have much experience with relationships, Dorian. I’m probably going to mess things up more in the future.”

“Like I’m any better,” Dorian said with a helpless laugh then his rested his forehead against Cullen’s shoulder. “No one told me it would be like this.”

“Do you regret this… us?” Cullen asked tentatively. Dorian could hear the fear and despair in his voice and reacted to that more than the question itself.

“Of course not!” he said, climbing into Cullen’s lap and cradling his face with both hands. “You are the most infuriating man I know and I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Cullen laughed and pulled him into a slow, lazy kiss. “Then I’ll remember in the future to make sure you know what’s happening.”

This time it was Dorian who initiated the kiss and it was far more heated, enough to have Cullen grabbing at his hips and pulling them flush together. They both moaned at the contact with their burgeoning erections.

“Nnngh,” Dorian groaned in between kisses. “I’m going to have to apologise to Adaar when we get back, aren’t I?”

“If he doesn’t apologise to you first,” Cullen said absently, far more interested in pulling Dorian’s shirt off and kissing his way down until he could take one of Dorian’s nipples in his mouth.

Dorian gasped and let his head loll back, no longer interested in conversation as he threaded his fingers into Cullen’s curly hair. He rocked his hips against Cullen’s, drawing a low growl from the other man. He smiled sensuously, remembering how hesitant Cullen had been at first, how reluctant he had been to let himself go with Dorian, afraid that those small hints of his lion self would be unwelcome. How surprised and awed and adorably bashful he’d been when he’d realised how much Dorian liked those hints, the growls, the strength, the predatory air.

Cullen’s hands were hard on his hips now, pulling and directing their movements against each other. Dorian raised Cullen’s head and kissed him, making small noises of satisfaction as their rocking intensified. 

“Harder, my lion,” he murmured.

Cullen growled in response and bucked up against him. Dorian’s hands tightened in Cullen’s hair and he rode the other man desperately. He could feel his orgasm coiling deep in his gut and from the hitched snarling noises Cullen was making, he was in much the same state.

Suddenly Cullen wrapped one arm around his hips and another around his shoulders and crushed him to his body. He bucked his hips up hard into Dorian and threw his head back with a breathless roar as he came. Dorian followed almost immediately, helpless to stop himself and burying his face into the juncture of Cullen’s neck and shoulder to surround himself with his lover’s scent. He slumped against Cullen and made a mewling sound of protest when Cullen’s arms loosened from their grip on him.

Cullen chuckled and nuzzled the shorn hair on the side of Dorian’s head as he tightened his embrace again. “I think we need another bath.”

“Mmmm,” Dorian hummed. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the stickiness in his breeches drove him up the wall but for now he had no intention of moving. “How terrible.”

“Was that our first lovers’ quarrel?” Cullen said, his voice warm with amusement.

“That was barely even a spat,” Dorian replied, a smile curving his lips. “Though I liked the makeup sex. We should do that again, without the spat first.”

Cullen laughed again. “I think we could manage that.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think Flemeth was going to leave her meddling just how it is, did you? A village in Ferelden results in a visit by the Witch of the Wilds and a little more than either Cullen or Dorian expected.

Dorian was wet. In fact, he was beyond wet. He’d officially entered the territory of soaked to the skin. Every inch of his clothing was drenched and clinging uncomfortably every time he shifted. He very much wanted to head back to shelter but he had no intention of moving until Cullen returned. He shifted again where he was lying prone underneath a blackberry bramble, taking care not to impale himself any more than he already had – blackberry brambles made wonderful if somewhat painful hidings spots because who in their right mind would willing crawl into one – and then pulling at the sodden cloth around his middle when it bunched up uncomfortably. He mentally castigated the Inquisitor for about the hundredth time and then added a few choice phrases for Cullen and his immovable sense of duty.

_They had been playing chess when the message came, summoning them both to the War Room. Dorian had been irritated right from that moment. Their chess games had become a rather torturous form of foreplay since they had begun their relationship. A game of more than just moving pieces on the board. Every coy look, every teasing word, every not-so-random brush of their fingers became a tantalising prelude to the inevitable aftermath. An aftermath that might come immediately after the chess game had finished or might be drawn out over the afternoon and not culminate until after dark._

_Dorian had been planning on dragging Cullen up to his rooms after today’s chess game, driven half mad by Cullen’s new habit of tapping his finger on the scar on his lip. It was deliberate, of course. Cullen knew how much he liked that scar, liked licking it and feeling it under his lips and fingers. The Inquisition thought their Commander was a chaste Chantry boy, innocent in the ways of man and maid… or man and man in their case… but Dorian knew better. Cullen was a delightful tease with a deliciously inventive mind. And he was all Dorian’s. It was enough to make a man feel smug._

_Once in the War Room, they’d found Adaar pacing apprehensively. It was always rather adorable to watch the enormous Vashoth archer shuffle his feet like a nervous schoolboy. The man was deadly on the battlefield and bawdy enough after a few ales but he quite honestly blushed like a schoolboy when things got serious. It made watching his little romance with Josephine feel like one of the fairy tales his nanny used to read to him when he was a boy._

_But there was nothing romantic about what Adaar told them. A village in Ferelden where people kept disappearing and no one could seem to find any answers. Dorian was confused as to why they’d been called in until it suddenly dawned on him._

_“No,” he said firmly._

_“Dorian,” Adaar pleaded. “You know I wouldn’t ask if there was an alternative.”_

_“You said you wouldn’t ask at all,” Dorian snapped._

_“I don’t have any other choice,” Adaar said, his expression becoming miserable. “Leliana’s people have been through the village three times. The first two times, they found nothing but reported that the place felt odd. The third time… well, they haven’t returned or reported in.”_

_“And what are we supposed to do?” Dorian gestured to himself and Cullen. “If Leliana’s spies can’t figure it out, how are we supposed to do better?”_

_“I was hoping a mage and a warrior and…” Adaar hesitated for a moment. “… and a lion might find the answers that are eluding the spies.”_

_“No,” Dorian said with a sharp gesture._

_“Dorian,” Cullen said with a sigh. “We can’t ignore this.”_

_“Fine!” Dorian whirled around and glared at him “I’m not saying you should ignore it. I’m saying not you.”_

_“Dorian,” Cullen said patiently._

_“Don’t ‘Dorian’ me.” Dorian shifted his glare to both of them then poked Cullen in the chest with one finger. “Last time you did this you were captured by an Orlesian noble who wanted to turn you into his pet!”_

Unfortunately Dorian had not won that argument. Cullen’s sense of duty had gotten the better of him and the best he could do was go with his fool of a lover and make sure they both survived this. What he hadn’t expected was the rain over the last few days. He might not have minded so much but the rain was _cold_. It made him feel utterly miserable. The only consolation was that his state of misery made Cullen exceedingly attentive.

They had _finally_ reach the village in question this morning but they’d decided not to enter it just yet and let Cullen scout the area in his lion form. That had been an hour ago and Dorian was just starting to get a little worried when the huge lion emerged from the trees and hurried over. As he approached, Dorian would see that Cullen looked agitated and when he got within earshot, he could hear him making this uncertain rumbling noise deep in his chest. Dorian wriggled out from underneath the bramble and by the time he was on his feet again, Cullen had changed back.

“Red lyrium,” the warrior said without preamble. He looked deeply unhappy.

“You can feel it?” Dorian asked, stepping closer and wrapping his arm around Cullen’s waist to offer some comfort. “There’s no sign of it from what I could see.”

Cullen nodded. “It’s there. You’ll probably be able to feel it yourself when we get closer to the village. I was fairly sure when we stopped that it was there. I seem to be sensitive to it. I don’t know whether it’s because I was a Templar or whether it’s the withdrawal and the fact that my body still craves lyrium at times.”

Dorian grimaced. That had been an interesting conversation… for a certain definition of ‘interesting’. He’d known there was something different about Cullen compared to the other Templars in the Inquisition but he hadn’t realised that southern Templars actually took lyrium so consistently as to get addicted. He’d been horrified when he’d found out and he’d spluttered for several minutes about how dangerous that was and about the side effects and were they all _mad_?

Cullen had let him rant and then drawn him close. He’d clung to his lover then, desperately worried and afraid for him. He now had an explanation for all those times Cullen had looked unwell or had been suffering from a severe headache and he hadn’t been happy about it. All those times Cullen should have been _resting_ , not pushing himself and working himself to the bone. Then he’d discovered how difficult it was to get Cullen to rest, even with his unfair advantage.

“Do you think it’s inside the houses?”

Cullen frowned and seemed to search inside himself somehow. “I… don’t think so. It seems… deeper. Lower. Caves maybe?”

“Is this an area smugglers have used?” Dorian asked.

Cullen nodded. “Yes but we don’t have any good maps of the area.”

“So what now?” Dorian asked.

“I scout around.”

Dorian scowled. “ _We_ scout around. I’m not sitting here and fretting myself into a tizzy, damn you.”

Cullen looked like he wanted to argue but he just sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was wet and starting to curl and Dorian was rather manfully holding back the comments he wanted to make. He suspected if he didn’t do that, Cullen would find some bizarre way to use it as an excuse to keep him somewhere safe. 

“Alright. You circle around to the south. I’ll circle around to the south. We’re just looking for anything that looks like a cave or something that smugglers might use. Don’t close in and don’t go anywhere near anything that feels like red lyrium.”

Dorian reflected that Cullen’s Commander voice was a hell of a turn on and wasn’t that a thought that was going to be very inappropriate once they were back at Skyhold given how many times the man used it there. 

“Is there some place where we’re supposed to be meeting on the other side?” he asked instead of the thousand inappropriate things that had come to mind.

Cullen nodded. “There an old abandoned hut. It shouldn’t be hard to find.”

“Delightful,” Dorian said dryly then he nodded to Cullen. “I’ll see you there.”

Cullen hesitated for a moment. “Be careful.”

“Only if you will,” Dorian said pointedly then snorted with amusement at Cullen’s wry expression.

They separated then and Dorian watched as Cullen changed back into his lion form. Even after all the times he’d seen it, it was still very impressive. He watched the lion pad off into the trees then shook his head and got to work.

And it was very tedious work, picking his way through the trees and the undergrowth, trying to find something that might be useful to a smuggler while also trying to avoid being seen by anyone who may or may not be out there. As he circled around the village and got a little closer to it in doing so, he started to hear and feel the distinct sensation of red lyrium. He grimaced and edged a bit further away from the village. If he felt it the way he was, it could only be worse for Cullen.

He grimaced and continued moving around the edges of the villages. He made note of a few little huts of indeterminate purpose and something that looked like a cave in a nearby hill. He wasn’t sure about the cave as it was less rock as it was packed earth. It looked as unstable as all hell and he knew he’d hate to go in there. He finally finished his half-circle and found the hut Cullen had described. It was definitely abandoned and very decrepit and he peered inside dubiously, half expecting that a good sneeze would make the entire damn thing fall down but it was a bit sturdier inside than he’d expected.

He went inside and found a wooden box that looked like it wouldn’t collapse underneath him and sat down to wait. Nearly an hour passed before he stood up and growled under his breath. Cullen should have been here by now. He was better at this than Dorian and he should easily have been here even if he’d chosen the more difficult path, which he was sure had happened.

Dorian pulled his cloak around his shoulders and made his way back outside into the rain. He looked around, hoping to see either the huge lion or the man himself approaching but there was no sign of anyone. He began to move around the village to the north, trying to find any signs of Cullen and trying not to let his worry consume him. Finally he found what he was looking for and he crawled through the undergrowth to lie beside the large lion.

“I’m going to kill you,” he whispered to Cullen with annoyance.

The lion made a low querying sound and Dorian nudged him.

“I was waiting there for over an _hour_ with no sign from you,” he continued in that low whisper. “You didn’t think to come and get me?”

The lion growled and his whiskers twitched forwards, he hadn’t once taken his eyes off whatever it was he was watching. Dorian sighed and followed the lion’s gaze. When he saw what had distracted Cullen, he began to swear under his breath. From this angle, they could see through a gap in the buildings of the village. In the middle of the village green was a single jutting spire of red lyrium and impaled within the spire, no doubt the source of it in the first place, was what was left of a Templar. In front of the red lyrium spire was a makeshift altar, probably the one from the Chantry that had been repurposed for this sick travesty of a religious service. A woman dressed as a Chantry sister was presiding over what looked alarmingly like a blood sacrifice and she was taking a goblet around the kneeling group in front of the altar and letting them drink, one by one. Dorian had a strong suspicion he knew what was in the goblet but he had no desire to find out. As they continued to watch, the Chantry sister returned to the altar and turned towards the spire. She raised her hands and began to chant and as she did, the Templar trapped in the spire began to move, juddering and shifting as though he was trying to escape.

“Maker’s balls,” Dorian whispered, sounding about as sick as he felt. “It’s driven them mad.”

The lion rumbled deep in his chest and Dorian could feel him shifting beside him. He quickly threw an arm over the lion’s shoulders and grabbed hold of his mane.

“Stop that,” he whispered. “If you go charging down there, they’ll kill you. If you’re lucky. If you’re unlucky, you’ll either find yourself on that altar or joining that Templar.”

Cullen stilled under his arm then made a low growl of frustration.

“I know but there’s only two of us. We can’t do anything.”

Just as he said that, two large burly men came out from between two buildings and they were dragging a young elven woman along with them. She was clearly not mad like the rest of them as she was fighting and screaming, trying to break away from the grip the two men had on her arms. The men dragged her onto the village green and Cullen suddenly made a sound that Dorian sincerely hoped he would never hear again. It started as a quiet yowl of surprise then it turned into a low growl of furious anger. All of a sudden Dorian knew what was going to happen and that he didn’t have a hope in hell of stopping it. 

“Now, now, my fierce one, that is not why I gave you that particular gift.”

Both Dorian and Cullen yelped in surprise and fright and Dorian stared at the old woman who had _somehow_ appeared beside them, kneeling in the undergrowth. Before he could say anything, Cullen had transformed back, his expression a mix of fear, surprise, anger and curiosity.

“ _You_! What are you doing here?”

Dorian looked back and forth between his lover and the old woman and a nasty suspicion as to who this was suddenly came to mind.

“Flemeth, I presume,” he said dryly.

The look the woman flicked at him was full of dry amusement. “Clever boy.”

“I’m not leaving her down there to be… to be _sacrificed_ ,” Cullen said, setting everything else aside as the elven woman gave a piercing scream.

“She will not be sacrificed,” Flemeth said in a chilling tone that made Dorian very glad it wasn’t directed at him. “But I did not give you that gift of mine so that you could turn yourself into a statue like that poor fool down there.”

Dorian’s eyes narrowed as his mind made a few leaps. “Templars are vulnerable to the red lyrium, aren’t they? More vulnerable than anyone else. That’s why Meredith turned herself into a statue.”

Flemeth gave him an approving look and he suddenly felt like he was fifteen and back in the Circle in Minrathous being grilled by Magister Havinius.

“That is an over-simplification but it is essentially correct. The lyrium in their bodies is easily corrupted by the red lyrium.” She arched an eyebrow at Cullen. “And though you have left that life behind, there is enough lyrium still lingering in your system to make you vulnerable.” 

“But the girl…” Cullen began.

“Will be freed,” Flemeth said. “Return to the hut and wait for me.”

With that, she began to walk down the hill towards the village. Dorian could feel the way her magic was building and he grabbed Cullen’s arm and began dragging him away.

“Come on,” he said urgently. “We do _not_ want to be here when she gets started.”

Cullen tried to drag his heels. “What? Why?”

“Because whatever else she may or may not be, she’s a very powerful mage,” Dorian said. “We do not want to get caught in the wash of whatever she has planned.”

Cullen allowed Dorian to drag him away from the village and back to the hut. He clearly wasn’t happy about it but he’d learned to trust Dorian when it came to magic and its effects and Dorian was never more grateful for that than now. When they got to the hut, Cullen immediately began pacing but since he didn’t seem inclined to run off after Flemeth, Dorian allowed himself to relax.

“So that’s Flemeth,” he said into the growing silence.

Cullen grunted sourly and Dorian let it drop. The tension in the air grew until there was a loud bang and a wash of magic that made Dorian’s hackles stand on end. 

“Was that…?” Cullen asked, finally coming to a halt.

Dorian nodded. “I don’t know what she’s done but it feels very… final.”

A moment later, the woman in question sauntered out of the trees and came to a halt in front of them. She looked smugly pleased and there was an air of power lingering around her that was highly intimidating.

“It is done,” she said. “The girl is safe and you may report back to your Inquisition that the village will trouble no one else.”

Cullen opened his mouth to say something then he subsided. He had a look on his face that suggested he’d decided he really didn’t want to know. Flemeth seemed to know what he was thinking as she chuckled and walked over to him. She eyed him intently and then patted him on the cheek.

“You’ve come far from the man I met.” She smiled faintly as her gaze flickered over to Dorian. “Very far. It’s pleasing to see. I am also glad to see that you are putting my gift to good use.”

Now she sauntered over to Dorian and the mage shuddered at the way her gaze seemed to strip him bare.

“How interesting,” she murmured. “Stop trying to fool everyone, boy. It doesn’t work and there’s nothing wrong with being thought of as a decent man.” Before Dorian could say anything, Flemeth placed a hand on his shoulder. “And I think the pair of you can do some good work with my gifts.”

Cullen gave a strangled cry and leapt forward with an outstretched hand. But before he could get close, there was a flash of light that blinded him. He dimly heard Dorian’s cry of shock then the light cleared and where Dorian had been standing just before, there was now a sleek black panther lying on his side on the ground. Flemeth was gone.

Cullen dropped to his knees beside the panther and placed one shaking hand on its shoulder. “Dorian?”

The panther blinked and made an unhappy mrrping sound then he raised his head with wide, shocked eyes. A heartbeat later, Dorian was lying where the panther had been.

“Did she…?” he said, looking at Cullen with shock.

Cullen nodded ruefully. “So it seems.”

Dorian made an irritated noise. “Blasted woman.”

A low chuckle that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere echoed around them for a moment then it disappeared.

“Because that isn’t creepy at all,” Dorian snapped as he scrambled to his feet and dusted himself off. Only then did he look over at Cullen again. “She…”

Cullen licked his lips and nodded. “Did the same thing to you as she did to me? Yes. Only you’re a panther, not a lion.”

“Does she do this just for laughs?” Dorian snapped.

Cullen stepped over and drew Dorian into his embrace. The mage resisted for a moment then suddenly curled in close. That was when Cullen realised Dorian was shivering and not just from the cold.

“It’ll be alright.”

Dorian made a scornful sound. “How do you know?”

“I survived, didn’t I?”

Dorian went very still at that then Cullen felt him finally relax entirely. 

“You’ll be able to come with me now,” Cullen said. “And not have to lurk under the brambles, getting wet.”

“Oh, of course you’d look at it that way,” Dorian complained, though there was little heat in it. He sighed and when he continued, he was much more subdued. “I don’t even know what she’s done. I couldn’t figure it out with you and I can’t with myself either.”

Cullen chuckled. “It _has_ only just happened, Dorian. Give yourself at least a few weeks before you declare yourself baffled.”

Dorian grumbled under his breath for a moment then he slowly pulled away. “So what now?”

“Now we go and check what Flemeth did to that village and report back to the Inquisition.” Cullen hesitated for a moment. “And perhaps tell the Inquisitor what happened to you?”

Dorian considered that for a moment. “I suppose we’ll have to. Well, if it ensure he sends me with you every time instead of arguing the matter, I suppose it might be worth it.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oooh, look! Some actual plot! This is set post-Trespasser so there are some spoilers for the events in that DLC.
> 
> Cullen and Dorian find an old friend and decide to go with him.

It was pure chance that Cullen was in his lion form when he came across the scent trail. He’d been indulging Dorian, who had been irritable and stressed from months of dealing with the perfidies of the Magisterium after his return from the Exalted Council. Cullen wasn’t sure whether his presence in Tevinter or more specifically his presence at Dorian’s side was making things better or worse for Dorian and Maevaris’ political ambitions but Dorian had made it plain that _he_ wanted Cullen there, politics be damned, and they’d spent too much time apart after Corypheus’ death and before the Exalted Council for Cullen to argue with him too much.

But the stress remained and thus Cullen had suggested the trip out of the city to one of Maevaris’ country estates and miracle of miracles, Dorian had let himself be persuaded. Cullen suspected he had Maevaris to thank for that given that Dorian hadn’t really given in until after a late night meeting with Maevaris after a particularly trying day. Cullen didn’t much like the Imperium but he liked what Dorian had planned and that was enough for him.

Once they had settled in, it hadn’t taken much persuading to get Dorian to join him in his panther form. They’d both become more comfortable with their alternate forms over the years. Adaar had done his best to keep his promise and had only used them sparingly and when there was no other choice but now that he could truly guard Cullen’s back, Dorian had been less resistant to such requests. He even enjoyed it, though he was about as comfortable as Cullen was in regards to how it had come about. Flemeth’s game was still a mystery to both of them.

But now he’d come across a very familiar scent trail and he rumbled low in his chest as he considered it. A nudge against his side drew his attention away and he turned his head to see Dorian’s panther form sliding up beside him, jet black against his own golden fur. Dorian made a small querying sound then his voice echoed through Cullen’s mind.

_What is it, Amatus?_

This mental speech had come as something of a shock to Cullen. He’d never been able to communicate with anyone in his lion form, at last not verbally and certainly not mentally, and the first time he’d heard Dorian’s voice in his mind when they were both in their alternate forms had made him jump, complete with startled yowl. He’d become used to it, mostly due to its usefulness, but he was glad it didn’t cross over into their human forms. He’d come a long way in his acceptance of magic but he still had lines he didn’t much want to cross.

_Smell familiar?_ He made a small gesture with his head towards the scent trail.

Dorian stepped forward and sniffed delicately then his hackles went up and a low yowling sound curled out of him.

_Solas!_

Cullen rubbed his face against Dorian’s shoulder. _Should we follow it?_

Dorian curled around and licked his muzzle affectionately. _I think we ought to. This is the first trace any of us have found of the damn fool elf. Or god. Or whatever he is._

_That was my thought._ Cullen returned to the scent trail and cast up and down it as he worked out which direction Solas had gone. Once he’d done that, he looked over his shoulder at Dorian. _Shall we?_

Dorian joined him and they broke into a lope as they followed the trail. It wasn’t very old, less than a day certainly, and Solas was definitely alone. It was their best chance to try and work out what the elf mage was up to. Their only concern was that Solas was likely to recognise them. By the time Adaar had destroyed Corypheus, all of the Inner Circle had known about Cullen and Dorian’s alternate forms. Vivienne… or Divine Victoria as she was now… had even requested their assistance on one occasion, which they’d agreed to after they’d gotten the details. So Solas was going to recognise the lion and panther who were coming after him.

Not that they intended Solas any harm. Adaar had made it plain that he wanted to try and convince Solas that there was another way before he resorted to any sterner measures. Cullen wasn’t entirely sure that was wise but Solas had been a good and loyal friend to the Inquisitor and despite his misgivings, he’d agreed to Adaar’s plan. Dorian hadn’t needed to be convinced and Cullen suspected that was because his lover really wanted to spend as much time as Solas would give him discussing all matters Elvhen and ancient. He’d certainly taken a chiding comment Solas had made to him to heart and had insisted that whatever else he and Maevaris tried to achieve, an end to slavery had to be a major part of it.

_What are we going to do if we find him?_ Cullen asked after about an hour.

_Talk to him._ Dorian huffed. _I’m not sure we’re the best ones to do that but Kaaras would be disappointed if we didn’t try. At the very least, I’m sure Solas would like to know about the prosthetic Dagna created. Kaaras did say that Solas regretted having to do that, even if it was the only way to solve the problem._

Cullen made a noise of agreement. It had been a shock to see the huge Vashoth archer come staggering back through the Eluvian, supported by Dorian and Blackwall and minus half his arm. It had been even more startling to see Vivienne… Divine Victoria’s… worried hovering over the former Inquisitor. Adaar’s explanation had been harrowing but given what they had seen happening to the mark on the Inquisitor’s hand, Cullen had no reason to doubt that Solas had done what was necessary and hadn’t been cruel. Adaar and Solas had always gotten along well. That had made Adaar’s report that Solas had indicated he would rather like to be given an alternate solution more understandable.

_He wasn’t very happy about not being able to use his bow._

Dorian made a thoughtful chuffing sound. _No one likes to be helpless._

Cullen made a noise of agreement and they continued on their way. It was just after dusk when the scent trail strengthened and they realised they must be getting close. Then they saw the low gleam of a campfire in the distance and they slowed down out of their lope. They approached the fire openly, seeing no reason to sneak up on the Elven god, and when they emerged into the circle of light, Solas showed no surprise.

“Commander. Dorian,” he said with a small nod then watched with curious interest as they changed back into their human forms. “It is the first time I have seen that in a very long time.”

Cullen and Dorian sat down at the campfire and Cullen frowned. “You’ve seen it before?”

Solas nodded and a melancholy expression settled on his face. “A very long time ago. Before.”

Both men nodded their understanding. Before. Before Solas brought down the Veil and destroyed Arlathan and the Elvhen people.

“Was it something common to your people?” Dorian asked.

Solas hesitated. “No,” he said slowly. “Many of us could shapeshift into animal forms but imposing the ability on another was… the gift of only one of us.”

Cullen felt a low feeling of dread settle in his chest as the implications of that sunk in. “Only one? Who?” he asked carefully.

“Mythal,” Solas replied then he smiled faintly. “And I will pre-empt your next question, Commander. Yes, Flemeth was Mythal. In a manner of speaking.”

“Was?” Dorian said sharply.

“Circumstances have changed.”

“Mythal is dead?” Cullen asked.

Solas shook his head and snorted. “No. We are not that easy to kill, even now. It is complicated and I am unsure I know how to translate the words in a way you would understand.”

“So why would Flemeth… Mythal… do this to us?” Cullen asked.

That faint amusement became more pronounced as Solas replied. “She always had her reasons for whatever she did but she rarely chose to explain them. However, I can say that this…” He gestured towards the two of them. “…was not a gift she ever bestowed lightly. She has found both of you worthy for it and as for the why? That is something you must discover.” He arched an eyebrow at them. “Did she ever say anything about it?”

“She told me ‘He will need that courage so you should have it’,” Cullen said.

Dorian snorted. “All she said to me was ‘I think the pair of you can do some good work with my gifts.’”

Solas eyed Cullen curiously. “He? Dorian?”

“I don’t know,” Cullen replied. “But I didn’t get the impression Dorian was the one she was talking about. Nor do I think it was Adaar.”

In fact, Cullen had a strong suspicion that he now knew who that ‘he’ was and that he was looking right at the person in question. From the startled and bemused expression on Solas’ face, he gathered that the eleven mage was thinking the same thing.

Solas shook his head. “She always did like to meddle,” he muttered. He drew in a breath then let it out slowly. “So what do you intend to do? I should warn you I have no intention of turning from my plans.”

Cullen made a snap decision and he hoped that Dorian would forgive him his presumptuousness. He wasn’t sure Solas was the one Flemeth… Mythal… had been pointing him at all those years ago but it was worth playing this out and seeing how it went. He figured that the worst Solas was likely to do was abandon them in the middle of a forest somewhere and between them, their feline forms would keep them safe enough.

“I thought we’d go with you,” he said as blandly as he could manage.

The silence that fell was fairly spectacular and he could almost feel that Dorian was about to burst apart beside him. Before that could happen, Solas spoke.

“That is… quite impossible.”

“You’re heading further into Tevinter if you’re planning on continuing in the same direction,” Cullen said, still in that bland tone. “I know you have considerable power but a lone elf in Tevinter is vulnerable.” He cocked an eyebrow. “You’d be far less vulnerable with a lion and a panther beside you.”

“Do you really believe that I will be troubled?” Solas said with an edge of superior amusement about him.

“Well, you were rather impressive against the Qunari,” Dorian drawled, shooting an indecipherable look at Cullen. “But that was the Qunari. Their mages are the magical equivalent of hitting people with a lump of wood. I know you look down on us but you might find a cadre of Tevinter mages to be a slightly different prospect.”

Both Cullen and Dorian noticed that the elven mage didn’t dispute his feelings of superiority but he also looked rather thoughtful. He then arched an eyebrow at the two of them.

“And if I continue to decline, you will follow me anyway, won’t you?”

Cullen shrugged and endeavoured to look innocent. “It seems to be the thing to do under the circumstances.”

Solas gave them a long look then he sighed. “Very well. I will even remain here long enough for you to fetch whatever effects you need.”

Cullen gave him a nod of thanks and got to his feet. Dorian followed suit and then changed back into their feline forms and loped off in the direction they’d come from.

_Are you completely mad?_

Cullen thought that Dorian’s opening salvo was actually quite tame and far less than he’d actually expected.

_Maybe. But he said yes, didn’t he?_

_That’s what worries me._ Dorian growled low in his chest. _He’s actually going to let us come along with him. That’s almost disturbing. Because I didn’t buy that he’s actually concerned about anyone here in Tevinter. Not after what I saw in the eluvians._

_I don’t think he is either_ , Cullen replied. _But remember that Kaaras said he actually quite wants to be talked out of what he’s doing. Maybe he’s giving us a chance to figure out how Kaaras can do that?_

_So we’re going to go with him_ , Dorian said sourly. _Delightful._

_For as long as he lets us, yes._

They ran on in silence after that, only changing back once they were at the door to the house. They hurried inside and gathered up what they thought they would need. In Cullen’s case, that was mostly his armour, sword and shield before he turned his attention to supplies. Dorian changed into his mage armour and gathered the staff Kaaras had had made for him just after the Inquisition disbanded before taking a small detour into the study. Once they were both ready, they headed out and returned to Solas’ campsite. Cullen had to admit he was a little surprised that Solas was still there.

“We might as well stay here tonight,” the elven mage said after a moment’s consideration and a glance at the sky.

They nodded and quickly set their bedrolls up. They then returned to the campfire and a slightly awkward silence settled over the three of them.

“How is the Inquisitor?” Solas asked, finally breaking the silence.

“No longer the Inquisitor,” Dorian said dryly.

Solas cocked an eyebrow at them. “So I have heard. Was disbanding the Inquisition really necessary?”

“It was apparently riddled with spies, so yes,” Cullen said dryly.

Solas looked amused and very unrepentant. “Apparently it was.” He sobered and looked concerned. “And Adaar’s arm? It was the only solution I had. As an archer…”

“Dagna came up with a solution,” Dorian replied. “A prosthetic that is… just a little frightening to be perfectly honest.”

“It’s… very much something Dagna would create,” Cullen said diplomatically. “Adaar claims he’s a better archer now than he was before.”

Solas gave a sigh of relief. “That is… good to hear.”

“So, as much as I’m enjoying the chit-chat, are we going to address the druffalo in the room?” Dorian asked in a sarcastic drawl.

“I was thinking of ignoring it,” Cullen said dryly. “For now anyway.”

“Hmph.” Dorian arched an eyebrow at him but there was an edge of amusement lurking in his eyes. “That’s rather unlike you, Amatus. You’re usually the direct sort.”

“True,” Cullen replied. “But I do know the rudiments of diplomacy, no matter what Josephine might say.”

“As entertaining as the repartee is…” Solas began dryly.

“We are rather entertaining, aren’t we?” Dorian said with an air of fake cheer, grinning at Cullen.

Cullen sighed and placed a hand on Dorian’s knee. “One thing at a time, Dorian.”

He looked back to find Solas watching them with interest. He arched an eyebrow at the elf and got a faint smile in return.

“Mythal chose well,” was all Solas would say then he got to his feet. “I intend to sleep. You may do what you wish.” He hesitated for a moment. “There is no need for you to stand guard. My wards will protect us.”

They watched the elven mage walk over to his bedroll then Cullen gave Dorian a nudge and they sought their own combined bedroll. 

“Did you…?” Cullen murmured once they were wrapped around each other.

Dorian nodded. “Sent a message to Mae while you were packing the supplies. She’ll pass it on to Kaaras.”

“Good,” Cullen said. He sighed and pulled Dorian closer.

“What are the odds that he’ll be gone when we wake up?”

Cullen snorted. “Fifty-fifty.”

“That good?”

“I think he’ll let us come along for now,” Cullen replied. “I think he’s decided we can see what he’s doing now but I suspect he’ll disappear later.”

Dorian buried his face in Cullen’s neck. “That sounds logical,” he said, his voice muffled.

“Get some sleep,” Cullen said, running a hand through Dorian’s hair and smiling as the mage all but purred. 

He glanced over at the other bedroll and then closed his eyes. Even if Solas was gone when they woke, they could follow him. Solas probably knew that, which was why he was going to let them come along. He could only hope it would be worthwhile.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had an _idea_ and I had to write it. 
> 
> Solas shakes Cullen and Dorian loose and _someone_ meddles.

“Andraste’s arse! We’ve lost him.”

Cullen sniffed around a bit more but had to concede that Dorian was right. He changed back and stretched slightly before sighing and putting his hands on his hips.

“You’re right,” he said heavily. “I can’t find any trace of him.”

He watched as Dorian paced and ranted and gesticulated wildly. He was a bit more resigned to the inevitable than his lover. He’d always known that Solas would shake them loose eventually, that he was tolerating their company for reasons of his own, not because he actually needed or wanted them with him. He’d let them accompany him to a number of ancient elven temples, though he’d evaded them fairly deftly whenever they’d entered. He’d been happy enough to talk magical theory with Dorian but he’d been evasive and noncommittal when it came to discussing the temples themselves. All in all, it had been frustrating but not overly surprising.

He caught Dorian’s hand when he next paced past him and reeled him in gently. Dorian made a few sputtering sounds but let himself be drawn in and he rested his forehead against Cullen’s shoulder and nuzzled into the fur mantle there.

“We knew it was going to happen,” Cullen said heavily.

“He was opening up,” Dorian protested, his voice muffled.

Cullen made a noise of agreement. Solas _had_ been opening up just a little in the last few days. He wondered if that was why the elven mage had left. Had they been close to cracking him open and making him admit that he was wrong? Maker knows they’d been _trying_.

“I know.” He rubbed Dorian’s back. “Come on. We’d better get moving. If nothing else, we should report in to Adaar and let him pick our brains about all of this.”

Dorian grumbled and stayed where he was for a moment then he pulled away and they transformed back into their feline forms. They turned north instead of continuing the path they had been taking. They knew roughly where they were and heading north was going to lead to one of the major roads. From there, they could find a city and locate the former Inquisitor.

They still hadn’t reached the road by the time the sun started to sink below the horizon so by mutual agreement, they changed back and made a small camp. Their conversation was desultory as they prepared and ate their dinner and they sought their shared bedroll sooner then they ordinarily might have and drifted off to sleep wrapped around each other.

“Amatus?”

Cullen opened his eyes and gave a start. Fear rushed through him for a moment before Dorian came into view and placed a hand on his arm. The warmth and solidity of that touch steadied him and he managed a weak smile for his lover.

“I’m okay.”

Dorian gave him a dubious look. “You’ll forgive me if I doubt that a bit.”

“I’m fine, Dorian,” Cullen assured him. He got another dubious look for his troubles but he couldn’t blame his lover. He probably looked as strained as he felt. “Why am I in the Fade?”

“Because I brought you here.”

They both jumped at that and whirled around to face the speaker.

“Flemeth?” Cullen said immediately followed by Dorian’s far drier, “Mythal, I presume?”

The Witch of the Wilds smiled thinly. “Learned about that, did you, boy? Good for you.”

“Solas said you were… not exactly dead,” Cullen said as steadily as he could.

Flemeth’s… or Mythal’s… smile was full of weary sorrow. “He is right. Flemeth is dead but I still linger, as I always have.”

“You know what he’s doing, don’t you?” Dorian said.

Mythal nodded once. “My old friend is nothing if not stubborn when he sets his mind on a task.”

Dorian frowned. “Can he actually do it?”

“His power was equal to that of any of the Evanuris,” Mythal replied. “Maybe even greater. He was feared by them for a reason.”

“It’s not going to bring any of it back, is it?” Cullen said suddenly. “Arlathan, the elven empire, all of it. It’s not going to work.”

Mythal sighed and Cullen realised that though Mythal might have chosen to continue looking like Flemeth in this place, there were difference between them. Small and subtle but very definitely there.

“No,” she said simply. “Arlathan, all of it, is gone. He would destroy this world and all that is in it for nothing. He thinks he can protect his chosen few but they would be destroyed as well. The spirits would be driven mad, even the Evanuris would not survive now. If he succeeds, he will be left alone, howling into the Void for eternity.”

She turned away and stared into the distance for a moment. When she turned back, there was no trace of Flemeth left except in her appearance. It was Mythal, the Protector and All-Mother, looking at them. A shiver went up Cullen’s spine. This was _power_ standing before them. Solas might claim that the Evanuris were not gods but this power? At this level of power, there was little difference between mage and god.

“As much as I wish my vengeance against those who sought to slay me, I cannot let this come to pass.” 

There was anger and sorrow in her voice and something else that Cullen couldn’t identify for a moment. Then he realised what it was and remembered that Mythal was considered the elven goddess of love and the patron of justice.

She smiled faintly. “After all, vengeance has never something I could grasp for long. I’ve always preferred justice.” Her smile turned sad. “And I would not have Solas turn to stone on my behalf.”

“What can we do?” Cullen said with a shake of his head. He didn’t really want to think about the implications in what Mythal was saying. “He’s proven he can lose us in a heartbeat when he wants to.”

Her gaze turned to one of amusement as she looked at both of them. “You unsettled him, the pair of you. Such clever boys. So much potential. I couldn’t help but meddle in your lives. That does unsettle him so. He knows I never meddle without a reason and to do so with humans? His curiosity must be eating him alive.” She held out her hand. Dangling from her fingers were two amulets on silver chains. “Take these.”

They hesitated for a moment then Dorian reached out and took the amulets, handing one to Cullen before looking down at the one he’d kept. He frowned as he did so and looked back at Mythal with trepidation.

“There is very powerful magic in these.”

She smiled. “There is. Put them on and Solas will never escape you. What you do with that knowledge is up to you.” She turned and started walking away. Her voice floated back to them over her shoulder, suddenly harsh and censorious. “But know that I did not choose you because you were foolish and rash.”

The Fade swirled and Mythal disappeared. Cullen and Dorian had just enough time to look at each other before they both woke suddenly in their bedroll. They sat up and looked down at their hands. Wrapped around the fingers of each of their right hands was an amulet on a silver chain. And now that he really looked at it, Cullen could see that the amulet featured a sort of heraldry carved onto it – a dragon and a wolf, both rampant, with a lion above and a panther below. 

“Well, that’s rather pointed,” Dorian said, gesturing towards the amulet.

“What should we do?” Cullen asked.

Dorian snorted. “What we’ve been doing all along, I suppose. Mythal’s bidding.”

Cullen frowned, unsure if he really wanted to dive into these waters. Then he snorted as well. He’d been swimming in them ever since he’d first encountered Flemeth in that cave on the Sundermount. For some reason, she felt he and Dorian could stop Solas. He had no idea how they were supposed to do that but he also couldn’t do anything other than try. Not just because of his own nature but because of what Mythal had told them would happen.

He looked over at Dorian then flipped the chain over his head in a swift move before he could think twice about what he was doing. He gasped as the magic of the amulet seemed to stab into him then it settled and he nodded to Dorian, who had grabbed onto his arm.

“I’m fine. It’s fine,” he said, drawing his lover into a half-embrace and kissing his temple. “And Solas is about three days south of us.”

Dorian pulled away just long enough to put his own amulet on then he leaned back into Cullen. “Hmm, you’re right. So… Adaar or Solas?”

Cullen thought for a moment. “Town so we can get a message to Adaar, then Solas.”

Dorian smirked. “I vote for telling him that Mythal allowed us to find him. If he’s confused about her little shapechanging _gift_ to us, imagine how he’ll react to _that_ news.”

Cullen gave a huff of laughter then he nodded. “Actually, that’s a very good idea.”


End file.
